F O U R
D O M I N I C
As I made my way into Club Sapphire, the dim lighting and leather-clad decor welcomed me. The unsurpassable refinement of the interior decoration that almost resembles a gentlemen’s club-instead of a strip club- was dotted with dark polished wood and Chesterfield sofa. No wonder this was one of my favorites out of all the clubs my family owned.
Oh! And the women were exquisite, too.
“Sir...” The manager, Eric, came up out of nowhere and looked at me like I was some ghost. “Mr. Romano...we-”
I cut him off. “Send a message to Viktor. I will be in my room. And yes, send a bottle of Macallan.”
“Yes, Sir,” came the automatic reply.
As I waited for the elevator to open, he, once again, rushed by my side. “Sir, may I get a doctor for you?”
Stepping inside, I replied, “A bottle of Macallan do would just fine.” He did open his mouth to say something, but I was thankful when the door shut close.
Finally, a flitting moment of privacy prevailed as I inhaled through my nose and closed my eyes for a couple of seconds. It felt like I had been holding my breath for five fucking torturous days. My brain was a jumbled mess, my body was aching like hell, and God knows how many homicides I was already plotting in my mind.
The ding of the elevator pulled me back to reality, and I stepped out on the third floor, sauntering towards the room. Room 21 was built according to my tastes and preferences as I frequented the place.
The white, gold, and beige accented room, with a polished desk and a luxurious chaise was the kind of taste I picked up from my mother. The woman was obsessed with the decor. At times, it made my father question whether she loved her customized furnishings more than her husband. But my father, Alessandro Romano, being a man of unlimited means, indulged his wife with lavish mansions and apartments.
As I slumped down on the chair behind the desk and tried to recall every clusterfuck situation - one after the other, only one face floated above all.
Auburn hair, brown eyes, scowling face...fuck...
Who was this goddamn woman?
“Come in!” I hollered at the door.
And in walked a blond in a red dress, short and tight enough for my liking, spiky stilettos and hair bunched in a neat ponytail with a tray in her hand. The amber-hued bottle and glass were forgotten for a moment as I cocked my head and swept my gaze up and down her stature.
She wasn’t one of the servers at Sapphire, I knew for sure.
The manager, Eric, definitely knew how to entertain.
And this was the exact distraction I wanted.
Completely aware of my eyes on her perky breasts, she walked around the table, stopping inches away from me and leaned down to place the tray in front of me.
“Can I serve you, Sir?” The insinuation in her voice made me smirk.
“Do you know how to serve, sweetheart?”
She adjusted the fabric of her dress a little before answering, “Try me, Sir.”
I slowly rose from the chair and closed the distance between us. Taking her chin and stroking her lower lip, I whispered, “Let’s see, then.”
The tray on the table was shoved aside to make some space for us. “Bend over.”
Her gaze flitted between my slightly bulged crotch and the table. “I thought...oh...”
Boldly, she laid herself beautifully over the table, face down, as I moved behind her. The short red dress hiked up another notch, revealing the curve where her ass ended. Nothing else was left to my imagination as I lifted the fabric off her back. It was the lovely sight of pale round globes, welcoming and delicious.
“No panties.” I chuckled lightly. “You sure did come prepared,” I commented.
“Your preferences are quite well-known to us, Sir.”
I put forward a shoe between her feet and nudged her legs apart, at the same time, roughly kneaded her ass. “I also prefer a woman well-spread, sweetheart, so that I can access her hot cunt and ass at the same time.”
Her back arched immediately presenting the ass. Fuck! How I missed impromptu sex sessions. Between Nora being a bitch and Viktor pissing me off every ten seconds - it had become difficult to breathe peacefully nowadays.
My hand slid under, fingers skating the hot, slick passage while she moaned wantonly. I wanted her nice and wet before I shove my cock inside her.
At least that was the plan before the door burst open, and I mentally cursed myself for that.
Two known faces barged in like a freaking SWAT team, stopping dead in their tracks when they saw the girl bent over before me with my fingers buried inside her cunt.
And my dickhead big brother didn’t even have the decency to step out or turn around.
Well, if he wanted a show, I was prepared to give him one.
Smirking at Viktor, who was glaring daggers at me, I channeled the fingers in and out of her cunt. Pleasure wrenched every bit of embarrassment out of her as she moaned and quivered. It was when she reached her climax that I eased out my fingers and licked them clean. “Tasty.”
Viktor was seething by now as I could feel the raging waves off him. He wasn’t a man who was made to wait.
Well, fuck him.
After helping to her feet and placing a quick peck on those pouty lips that I was planning to wrap around my dick later, I said, “Next time, it will be my cock inside your wet pussy. But now, leave.”
Obediently, she walked out of the room before fixing her barely-covering red dress.
I sank back on the chair, acutely aware of the bruised ribs and wounds now, and grinned at him.
L I L L I A N A
A few hours later, I found myself skimming through study notes for the next class. Journalism school was a pain-in-my-ass than I had realized. Every five minutes I was tempted to chuck those papers out of the window.
The buzzing phone quickly stole my attention as I picked up without even looking at the screen. There was no need, actually. Only one person has that number anyway.
“How’s the family reunion?” I asked, picking up.
“Viktor Romano arrived with an army of guards within twenty minutes,” the voice on the other end answered. And I smirked.
“Well, I hope he is happy to see his younger brother alive and in one piece, at least this time. Next time, he might receive each of Dominic’s body parts, one after the other, and adequately gift wrapped.”
I could hear him chuckling over the phone. “You have creative imaginations.”
The smirk slowly died on my lips. “Romanos are creative too. It’s about time they meet their match.”
“What do we do now?” he asked, awaiting further orders.
“Now? Now, we sit and wait to see if they take the bait or not. Don’t go near Sapphire anymore until I say so. And be careful not to step inside the camera zone. Go back to your cover and sit tight until further instructions.”
“Take care, Lilliana.”
I disconnected the call, and my attention went back to the rumpled sheets on the bed where Dominic was lying a few hours ago.
When I was a child, my father first took me out for hunting. It was then I had learned the two most important lessons in life.
One, hunting deer was no pleasure when you can hunt the lion. Only a weak person would take on the weaker one.
And two, hunting was just the act.
The real challenge was to lure and bait the animal to walk into his own death.
And in my case, it wasn’t just a bloody lion to be trapped - it was a pack of savage wolves wearing the skin of humans.
[a few days later]
A part of my cover was waitressing in a cafe called Steaming Mugs. If I were to pose as an orphan, I needed some financial source, and this was it. Andrew contacted through a source and got me this job.
A day after Dominic returned home, I snooped around Sapphire, making sure the camera held the clear footage. And as expected, the very next day there was an extensive search on my social security number, in my university and every other official platform where I had left the bread crumbles for Viktor Romano to collect. I half-expected for men to show up on my door to abduct me, but nothing of that sort happened.
Either Viktor was too busy protecting his family from Vittelos, or he was stepping too carefully. And both options left me starving for some time.
But what I didn’t expect was the other devil to show up at “Steaming Mugs” so soon.
The expensive black Aston Martin and well-suited guards were hard to miss through the French doors of the cafe. Dominic stepped out, impeccably dressed, and gestured the guards to stay put. If he was trying to be modest by not being flanked by guards, he was failing miserably to do so.
There was basically nothing modest, or even humanly, about Dominic Romano. He was just a beast capable of tempting an angel into his bed only to ravage her.
Pretending to be oblivious of his presence, I deliberately approached a table occupied by an elderly couple with my back facing him. But turned out that even with the generous amount of distance between us, I could feel the heat of his presence.
The asshole deliberately sat on my section while I feigned innocence. “You! What are you doing here?”
Dominic, the devil, winked. “Missed me?”
“I have better things to do. Now, please leave.”
“Is that any way to speak to a customer?”
“I am pretty sure you have somewhere else to be. How about a strip?” No sooner the sentence slipped out of me spontaneously that I knew it was a mistake.
Dominic took this moment of my slip and grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards him. “I want to take you out for dinner, Lilliana.”
The guy didn’t waste a moment at all.
“You ass! Keep your hands off mine,” I gritted out.
To my utter surprise, Dominic did understand the concept of a woman saying ‘no’ - something least expected of him. But more surprising than that was of him leaving.
Did he drop by for a mindless banter for nothing?
His move definitely caught me off guard.
A card was stuffed in my hand, as he lowly whispered, “I didn’t take you for a chickenshit, girl. Do you want to see me? Here’s my number. Reach out if you want. But, please, stop the pretentious hatred game. Neither one of us is a teenager.”